


Rebound

by Bryonia_Alba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryonia_Alba/pseuds/Bryonia_Alba
Summary: Luna's there to help pick up the pieces when Ron's world falls apart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Smutty Claus, 2005.

Luna liked parties. She enjoyed watching the other guests mix and mingle. Sometimes they would come by the sofa where she sat, saying hello and making small talk but most of the time they left her alone and she observed groups of people form, knotting and unknotting into new groups, each person an individual thread weaving their own pattern through the gathering.

Swallowing the last of her gillywater, Luna nibbled absently at her cocktail olive, watching while Ronald circulated about, greeting everyone he'd invited to this little housewarming he'd orchestrated. It was a lovely house, Luna admitted, warm and spacious and suitable for a professional Quidditch player and his researcher bride-to-be.

Hermione was supposed to arrive later, as soon as she returned from Bulgaria or Romania or Croatia or one of those Balkan countries ending in –ia. It would be her first look at the house Ronald had purchased for them. Luna hoped she liked it, though she suspected Hermione might like it better with only the two people and not a passel of guests asking all kinds of questions about her travels.

Ronald was a good-hearted man who only wanted the best for Hermione, Luna knew. He simply didn't think things through much of the time. It was a Gryffindor thing.

Luna glanced down at the toothpick between her fingers, now sans olive, and decided another gillywater wouldn't be a bad thing. Ronald had considerately set up a bar area at the far side of the room for just such a thing. Standing, she moved around various clusters of fellow partygoers, waving to Neville and a noticeably pregnant Ginny along the way. Luna smiled warmly at the sight. She loved honeymoon babies. They were lucky and never had trouble with Wrackspurts.

She heard the tapping sound while waiting for her drink. A quick glance showed that apparently nobody else in the room heard, or if they did, didn't think it was important. Accepting her gillywater, Luna decided to investigate. After all, the tapping could very well be the work of a Pinterskiff that had got behind the walls, and Merlin knew what sort of damage it would cause if left alone. Besides, the opportunity to actually see a Pinterskiff was simply too good to pass up. They did a lot of damage, but nobody had ever seen one at work.

The tapping sound's true source, Luna discovered to her disappointment, was a post owl pecking forlornly at a windowpane, bearing a rather bedraggled-looking bit of parchment. No one else appeared to have seen or heard the poor bird amongst the laughter and conversation. Ronald, she saw, was at the opposite end of the room, talking animatedly with Harry and Susan. Judging from the way his hands moved, he was discussing details from his most recent Quidditch match (Cannons 210, Harpies 70. Luna only followed the Cannons, and only since Ronald had become their Keeper.).

It only took a moment to slip outdoors, retrieve the parchment, and feed the owl the cocktail olive from her drink before going back inside, though she was rather sorry to give up the olive, as they were the best part. Just those few moments had left her shivering from wintry chill as she crossed the room toward Ronald and his captive audience.

"So then their Beater must have got confused or something, because she hit the Bludger right at me, which of course meant a penalty…" Ronald was saying excitedly. Harry, Luna couldn't help but notice, hung on every word while Susan wore a determinedly polite expression of interest.

The things we do for the men we love, Luna thought with a small pang.

She stepped forward, seeing Ronald's eyebrows draw together in irritation as she drew Harry and Susan's attention away from his storytelling. Holding out her hand, she said, "There was an owl outside the window. I fed him an olive and sent him on his way. This is for you."

Ronald took the wrinkled parchment from her, eyebrows lifting. "It's from Hermione," he said, sounding puzzled. "I hope there wasn't a delay with the Portkey."

He opened the envelope and peered inside. Luna saw him pale slightly at the hidden contents hidden from everyone else's eyes before he drew out the single sheet of parchment. Harry shifted nervously beside him, casting an uneasy glance to Susan when Ronald's colouring turned a distinctly ill-looking shade of green. Wordlessly, he refolded the parchment and returned it to the envelope.

"Delay?" Harry asked, one hand tightening almost imperceptibly around his glass of rum punch. Susan bit her lower lip, blue eyes flicking between Ron and Harry worriedly.

"She's not coming." There was a dull, leaden quality to Ronald's voice that Luna had never heard there before. He looked up, blinking rapidly, seeming to notice for the first time he had an audience for his bad news. "She's…not coming tonight."

Abruptly, he turned on his heel and went upstairs, effectively abandoning his houseguests for all intents and purposes. Luna exchanged glances with Harry and Susan, turning when Ginny spoke behind her.

"Problem?" she asked. "I saw Ron turn green and practically run from the room. He didn't drink too much, did he? I swear, holidays, rum punch and my brothers do not go well together!"

"Ginny," Neville said beside her, his voice soft, but she closed her mouth with a snap, swallowing any further criticisms. "Luna, I thought I saw you give him something."

All eyes turned toward her. She looked from one face to the other before turning to Harry. "Explain for me, will you?" she asked. "Excuse me. Someone should see to Ronald."

She could hear Ginny's whispered demand that someone tell her what the hell was going on as she made her own way to the staircase and started up. She, like the other guests, hadn't been treated to a view of the upper storey when Ron had conducted his initial tour of the house, but it didn't take Ravenclaw intellect to deduce that the second floor consisted mainly of bedrooms, linen cupboards and an extra lavatory or two.

The question was: in which extra bedroom would she locate Ronald?

The answer was simple. One of the doors was ajar, and a peek revealed a thoroughly despondent-looking Ronald sitting on the edge of a bed, his shoulders slumped, the parchment in one hand. He didn't look up when Luna slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her with a small click. Nor did he look up when she sat down beside him. Nor did he look up when she rested a hand on his arm in silent sympathy.

The lighting in the room was dim, so Luna couldn't read what Hermione had written. She didn't try. That would be snooping, and despite her job as an investigative reporter for her father's magazine, The Quibbler, she knew there was a time and a place for everything, and now wasn't the time to investigate.

Besides, the ring glinting dully in his palm told her everything.

"I'm sorry," Luna said softly. It was a terrible platitude, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

Ronald shifted slightly and sighed. "Yeah, me too. It's going to be…awkward, to say the least, come Christmas Day." He pushed the sheet of parchment toward her. "See for yourself."

"No, really, I shouldn't…" Luna tried to demur, but Ronald practically shoved the parchment into her hand. She smoothed the wrinkles out with fingers that shook, squinting at the small, neat handwriting.

_Dear Ron,_

_This is probably the most difficult letter I've ever had to write, but I can't put it off any longer._

_Ron, I can't marry you. I started working on a project with your brother Charlie while in Romania, and though we tried to fight it the mutual attraction eventually became overwhelming and impossible to ignore. It's best to end things now while we still can, rather than continue down a path we will both regret._

_I do love you, Ron. There's a part of me that always will, that wants to see you happy. I only know that you won't find that happiness with me._

_I'm truly sorry it had to end this way. Charlie and I will both be home for Christmas._

_Hermione_

Luna passed the letter back to Ronald, now truly at a loss for words. What did one say when the love of your life leaves for a sibling? I'm sorry wasn't only inadequate, it was pathetic.

"I can't believe she threw me over for Charlie," Ronald murmured beside her. He sounded dazed, still disbelieving. "She threw me over for my own fucking brother. Fucking…"

Luna winced when he laughed, the sound harsh, humourless. There was nothing to say. Instead, she rose to her feet, battling back inexplicable tears. He couldn't cry, not yet; she was more than willing to cry for him, if it would help.

Now, however, wasn't the time for grief, shared or otherwise. There was still a houseful of guests downstairs, and sooner or later they were going to start wondering what had happened to their host.

Blinking, she straightened her shoulders. "I'll be back," she said softly.

He didn't respond; his attention had already turned back to the letter and the ring in his hands. Luna let herself out quietly and went downstairs. She wasn't surprised to find Harry, Susan, Neville and Ginny waiting for her, wearing nearly identical expressions of curiosity and concern.

"What's going on?" Ginny demanded. "Has something happened to Hermione?"

"Hermione's fine," Luna replied. "Hermione is quite happy."

She explained the situation in a few sentences. The unusual terseness of her tone made Ginny's eyes widen, followed by a sudden narrowing of her gaze. "I can't believe…"

"We'll start getting rid of the other guests," Neville said quickly, drawing Ginny away before she could vent. "Discreetly, Gin."

She made a visible effort to contain her temper, and nodded. "Of course, love," she said.

"Do you think I should go upstairs?" Harry asked. "I mean…"

Susan touched his arm. "Perhaps later," she said gently. "He's had an awful shock. We can drop by tomorrow, once it's had a chance to sink in. Right now, we'll be of more help assisting Neville and Ginny in emptying the house."

The process didn't take as long as Luna feared, between Neville and Susan's quiet, unassuming efficiency, Ginny's more acerbic approach, and Harry's blunt insistence that the party was over, and everyone had to leave now. A brief explanation of unexpected bad news was usually enough to send guests on their way, after giving vague words of condolence.

Harry, Susan, Neville and Ginny were the last to leave, though Susan practically had to drag Harry out the door. Luna could have sworn Susan winked at her as she and her protesting husband stepped into the frosty night and Disapparated.

 

Luna shut the door and leaned against it, blowing a flyaway strand of blonde hair from her eyes. Vaguely, she wondered what had happened to her gillywater. She needed one rather badly at the moment, all things considered. Straightening, she crossed the now-empty room to the abandoned bar and busied herself with fixing a drink.

"They're gone?"

Luna looked up from the extra cocktail olives she'd just added to her drink. Ronald stood in the entryway separating the front room from the foyer, looking pale but composed. Adding another olive, she nodded. "Harry and the others sent everyone home. It's just us. Would you like a Firewhisky?" She thought the situation warranted a good shot of Firewhisky.

Ronald wandered further into the room, dropping gracelessly onto the sofa. "Yeah, go ahead. Make it a double."

Pouring a generous measure of Firewhisky into a glass, Luna brought it to him before perching on the sofa beside him and sipping from her own gillywater. The extra olives were the perfect touch, she decided.

"Harry and Susan will stop by tomorrow sometime," she said, swallowing an olive. "I think he wanted to stay and make sure everything was all right with you. I imagine Ginny and Neville will also want to check on your wellbeing."

Ronald made a noncommittal sound in his throat before tossing back half the Firewhisky and grimacing. "I suppose I'll have to tell Ginny. No sense startling her into early labour. Mum would kill me." He groaned, bowing his head. "I have to tell Mum…"

Luna turned toward him, pushing her hair behind one ear. "I have a feeling Charlie's already told her," she said before taking another bracing sip of gillywater. "He ought to, anyway. He wouldn't be the type to rub salt into an open wound, would he?" She hoped not, but then, Charlie was the only Weasley sibling she hadn't met at least once before. "And if Charlie doesn't, I'm sure Ginny will."

"You're probably right." Another large swallow finished the Firewhisky. Setting down the glass, Ronald scrubbed at his cheeks before looking at Luna. "I'm being rude. Hermione always…" He paused, swallowed hard, and pressed on. "She always said I had the emotional range of a teaspoon."

"She didn't know you very well, then," Luna retorted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. She paused, considering, and lifted her chin, meeting Ronald's startled blue eyes. "She didn't appreciate what she had."

"Yeah, well…" Ronald looked away uncomfortably. "It's nice of you to say so."

Luna drank the rest of her gillywater in silence, absently fishing out olives and eating them one by one until they too were gone. Looking at her glass, she briefly considered fixing another one; but she imagined she had overstayed her welcome long enough. It was time to leave Ronald to his grief.

"I should probably go." Luna got up from the sofa, followed immediately by Ronald.

"I'll, um, get your cloak," he said, and left the room.

Luna took their empty drink glasses back to the bar and set cleaning charms on the others she found. He was going to have enough of a time cleaning up the party mess tomorrow; the least she could do was give him a little less work. She could always return tomorrow to assist, she thought. She was quite sure Harry and the others were already planning to do the same.

"You don't have to do that." Ronald had already returned, her cloak draped over one arm. "I'll deal with the mess tomorrow."

"I wanted to." Luna smiled and held up another cocktail olive. "I just wanted another excuse to get close to these. They're so tasty!" She popped it into her mouth and chewed, pleased when Ronald smiled, albeit weakly. She wondered how long it would be before he smiled---really smiled---again.

She took the cloak from Ronald at the door. "Thank you for inviting me to your housewarming party," she said politely. "It's a lovely home, and someday I'm sure you'll find someone to share it with. Just be careful the Pinterskiffs don't get in. It's not always dry rot, you know."

On impulse, she reached up, intending to kiss his cheek. He turned at the last possible moment, intending to reply, and her lips pressed firmly against his mouth instead.

Luna froze, feeling Ronald stiffen in surprise, realising that what had been meant to be a friendly gesture had become a Very Awkward Moment. He felt so nice, though, even better than she'd imagined. It took every scrap of willpower to draw back, to step away.

"I think I'll go now," she said shakily, her eyes staring fixedly at the mouth she had just kissed.

"No," he said suddenly. "Don't."

Luna closed her eyes as Ronald closed the distance she had so recently opened up, her head tilting back without thought as his mouth descended over hers, slanting fiercely, demanding entrance. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to sweep inside, tangling possessively with her own. She was barely aware of his large hands on her shoulders, barely felt a slight tugging as his fingers wound through her hair.

She made a small noise in her throat as Ronald kissed her, his hands kneading her shoulders, his mouth ravaging hers. The cloak slipped from her arm to puddle between them on the floor, forgotten.

"Shouldn't be doing this," Ronald whispered, releasing her mouth in favour of trailing hot, wet kisses down her throat. "Shouldn't be doing this…"

"Don't think," Luna whispered back, her head falling back so that he could keep kissing her neck. Her hands went to his chest, fingers scrabbling at the clasps fastening his robes. She wanted to touch warm skin. She wanted to touch Ronald, wanted to enjoy this unexpected moment as much as possible, because who knew if another opportunity would ever present itself. She knew that seemed almost predatory, knew that it should matter somehow.

It didn't.

Somehow Luna found herself against the wall, her back pressed up against the panelled wood, her hands still struggling to undo Ronald's robes. She caught her breath when he nipped lightly at her lower lip, his tongue tracing the spot a second later to ease the small sting. One hand circled both her wrists, tugging them away from his chest. His lips trailed down her throat at the same time, lingering over Luna's pulse-point. She was sure he could feel the quickening there as he licked at the spot, and Luna couldn't restrain her moan at the sensation.

Ronald's free hand drifted along Luna's thigh, gathering her robes between his fingers and lifting until the material was bunched around her waist. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, feeling the caress of cooler air against her skin as he raised her robes, a small whimper escaping her throat as he hooked his fingers beneath her knickers and tugged them down over her hips until they fell around her ankles in an insubstantial scrap of pink lace.

The hand encircling Luna's wrists tightened slightly, his grip gentle yet implacable as he pulled them from between their bodies and over Luna's head, pinning them against the wall. Ronald's lips claimed hers again at the same time, his free hand slipping between her legs briefly, just long enough to feel the wetness there. Luna moaned at the too-brief touch as his fingers came away damp and slick, and she wriggled against him, wanting more, one slippered foot sliding along his calf.

Ronald undid his trousers, pushing them down one-handed and stepping out of them, his other hand still keeping Luna's wrists pinned to the wall over her head. She glanced down, seeing his jutting erection before one finger went beneath her chin, lifting her gaze up to his.

"Look at me," he said, as his fingers returned to that place between her legs, stroking gently, coaxing more moisture from her. "I want to see you; I want to see what I do to you…"

Luna merely nodded, unable to stop the gasps and moans he tore from her lips, wrung from her throat. Her eyes widened when he slipped one finger, then a second deep inside her, his thumb circling and stroking her clit in time to the lazy movement of his fingers thrusting into her. She couldn't stop herself from pushing against them, couldn't stop the heat curling deep within her belly, swelling and tightening simultaneously. She tensed in his grasp, quivering helplessly, enslaved by the slow, relentless push and glide of those fingers in her cunt.

Her breathing stuttered unevenly, trapped in her chest, her voice rising in volume as Ronald's fingers slid past her nether lips and into her as far as they would go. His thumb slid across her clit…just…so…and Luna came apart, keening, clenching tightly around his fingers, her eyes squeezed shut as she shuddered around him.

She couldn't form a coherent thought if her life depended upon it as Ronald's fingers slipped free and he positioned himself, one hand on Luna's hip, urging her silently to slide her leg along his. She obeyed, equally wordless, and a moment later he was inside her, thrusting fiercely. His mouth covered hers, swallowing the sounds she made as he took possession of her.

Luna gave in to him, completely and without reservation, writhing against him, trying to draw him more deeply into her depths. She wanted, needed more, she wanted all of him, as much as he could give her.

Ronald drove repeatedly into her wet heat; she could feel him piston within her. Luna clenched tightly around him, pleased at the strangled groan wrenched from his parted lips, and she almost climaxed again then and there just from the sound of his pleasure. His hand tightened on her hip, and Luna curled her leg higher against his, desperately trying to draw him further into her.

He slammed into her, harder and faster, seemingly spurred on by her wordless moans. His mouth slanted across hers, tongue driving into her, and she met him thrust for thrust, her wrists straining against his hand. Ronald released her hip, his hand returning to where their bodies joined and finding her centre. Luna surrendered completely to the wild sensations searing through her, wriggling frantically beneath him as he touched her there. His thumb slid over her clit and she came again with a strangled cry, her hips grinding against his.

Ronald bent his head so that their foreheads touched. Luna's eyes were closed; she could feel the heated flush of her cheeks as he thrust into her, her mouth slack as she panted and whined his name, over and over.

The hand gripping her wrists tightened almost painfully as he stiffened, hips jerking as he came, spilling deep into her recesses, and he let her go, calling her name as Luna's arms wound around his neck and she pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss.

Ronald clung to her tightly for a long moment before sliding free of her body. "I shouldn't have done that," he whispered, his own face flushed from a blend of passion and shame. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that, Luna."

She waited until he met her gaze, his expression miserable, before cupping his face in both hands and kissing him lightly on the mouth. "You didn't take anything I didn't want to give," she replied honestly. "You're an easy man to love, Ronald Weasley. You have the emotional range of a teacup, after all."

He blinked, chuckling ruefully as Luna pulled her clothing back into place and picked her cloak off the floor. "A teacup?"

"Teacups are interesting," Luna replied. "Think of all the patterns and varieties that exist, then think of all the flavours and blends that can go inside. You have that same complexity, Ronald. Trust me on this."

Ronald didn't reply until Luna had thrown her cloak over her shoulders and opened the front door. "Erm, Luna?"

She looked up from shaking her hair free from the cloak's folds. "Yes, Ronald?"

"Do you have any plans for Christmas dinner this year?"

Luna smiled brightly. "I do now."


End file.
